A cold presence
by Valledorthedragon
Summary: Astrid drags Hiccup to somewhere he'd rather just leave. It had been a long time since he heard about that day on the lake, he was over it. And besides, this was all a big set up anyway. It's all a lie... That is until the psychic feels a startlingly cold presence... Could it really be him?


A cold presence

 **Authors note: hey guys, back with another story^^ I know it's not the one I promised but the moment I tell you all I'm going to do a story it suddenly feels forced and it just loses its fun so I'll just write whatever I feel like and hope you guys enjoy it^^ feel free to leave a review, they're always appreciated and I'll see you guys with the next story^^**

"Your sister? Alright. Can you tell me a little bit more about her?" Hiccup barely heard anything the guy was saying. He tried not to let his obvious disbelief and disaproval show, but he got the feeling he was failing. This was boring- why had he let Astrid drag him along to this? He sent her a glare: 'your fault', he told her through narrowed eyes. This is the worst. He'd told her he didn't want to come, but she'd twisted his arm with the promise that they'd get hot chocolates later. Maybe it was sad that he'd been so much of a pushover, but really he just got tired of arguing with the stubborn blonde.

So now he was here. Sat in a mildly uncomfortable chair; half listening to a guy with a microphone pretend he was talking with the dead. He had nothing against psychics, but he just didn't believe in them. He followed science and physics more than ghosts and spirits. There were tons of much better things they could be doing right now- and he knew he wasn't the only one with that opinion.

Snotlout, he knew for a fact, was only here because Astrid was- and he was using to opportunity to hit on her (very badly). But even he seemed to get bored when he realised she was obviously paying more attention to the guy with a mic than him. Fishlegs just kinda tagged along with the group (but he did confess he was curious, though rather sceptical, about these kind of things). He looked like he was starting to buy into it- eyes wide in awe, as he stared at the man addressing a supposed 'non believer'. Rubbish.

He thought Fishlegs was meant to be one of the smartest ones here? Honestly, he didn't know how he couldn't see that this whole thing was a set up. It was just an elaborate ruse set up by illusionists and actors.

The person he was quizzing on their 'sister' right now was actually pretty good though. They might've had him convinced, if he didn't know it was all a lie. The whole thing was stupid- you can't bring people back from the dead. To even think that you could-... He shut down that thought right there, before it started to unnerve him. The dead were dead- and they stayed that way. They couldn't come back. Period.

He sneaked another glance at Astrid. She was watching the guy hopefully, as he talked to the middle aged woman about whatever it was they were talking about (probably bringing her to false tears, he was pretty sure). The blonde teen's fingers were crossed under the table in front of them. He knew why she'd brought him here- of course he did... But really, he didn't need this. He didn't want it. If anything, the idea she had in mind just terrified him. To even think that he might still be near- to hear from him... He repressed a small shudder.

Some, he supposed, would take comfort in hearing from dead loved ones, but, for some reason, he was scared of the thought. Maybe because of what might be said, because of what delicately settled mental foundations it might disturb. The overwhelming possibility that he refused to believe possible... He wouldn't even let himself think about it. It was not going to happen. This was not real- it was all fake. He knew Astrid was just trying to help, but he was over it. He was fine... It had been nearly a year now, after all.

An awed, appreciative clapping pulled him out of his thoughts, as Snotlout jolted himself out of his daze enough to start slapping his hands together sleepily. Hiccup also clapped politely with the crowd as he tried to interest himself a painting- one of the many random, assorted pieces of decor dotted across the room. Why were they even here still? It was all just a boring waste of time. He sighed mentally, as he prepared himself for another set up story of 'deceased relative comforts the living'. What was he going to do this time? He thought, dryly.

"Now, this one.. We have a... I think, a young man here now." The man started. Oh really? Hiccup thought, settling himself more comfortably into the chair. An old ex back from the grave? He mused. This was just getting so predictable. "He's giving me quite a... quite a chill, actually. He seems to have a rather cold presence about him." The hairs on the back of Hiccup's neck lifted up. Yeah? He thought, nervously. What- were they the brooding type? He attempted to joke to himself. He felt Astrid's perceptive eyes land on him, but he said nothing. After all, there were plenty of things a cold presence could mean. It was such a generic ghost term. It probably meant nothing- and why would it? This was fake. It was just a coincidence is all. He tried not to look at the guy, but found himself glancing out the corners of his eyes at the man. The guy suddenly frowned slightly, in obvious, startled confusion. "This is very odd- he's.. he's sort of hiccuping." Astrid jumped to attention- staring at him very deliberately as he felt all eyes on their table turn towards him. "Only, he's sort of.. he's more just saying it..."

"Hiccup.. Hiccup.. Hiccup.."

The soft, repeated, haunting whisper sent chills racing up his back, as ice cold fingers ran along the tip of his spine. His chest suddenly full of tremors that almost made him feel like he was shivering... and the scariest part? He struggled to find any room for denial.

... He was here...?.. No.. He- he couldn't be. How did he know-? Who told him! He glanced at Astrid, as he clung to the hope that she'd set this up behind his back, but the shock on her face was genuine. He knew her well enough to tell when she was lying, and this was not one of those times.

"Does anyone know who this might be? Anybody recognise-." He noticed Astrid's timidly raised hand, and trailed off. What?! Astrid- don't! He shot her a desperate, pleading look, but it was too late. "This young lady over here?" He heard him saying. Why?! He cried silently at her. She looked taken aback by the fear in his eyes- almost guilty- but there was nothing they could do now. The guy was already at their table.

"Do you know what this means? He keeps seeming very insistent." He told her, confused himself as to why he kept hearing the word "hiccup". Astrid looked gingerly at him (no doubt about it- there was a definite 'sorry' in her gaze now).

"Um..." She murmured, unsure what to do next. He forced himself into action. He was going to tell him 'no'- she didn't know.

Why did he have to do this- he never wanted anything to do with this kind of thing! He'd had enough of all of this- he couldn't... he couldn't deal with it right now. He wasn't prepared for this! He.. He...

"I'm Hiccup." The words left his mouth without his permission. What are you doing?! Send him away! Send him away now! He didn't understand this- he didn't get it! How did he know he called him that?!.. It scared him. It honestly scared him. He'd been through a lot in his life: bullying, fights- even wild dog attacks-... but somehow... this calm, middle aged man scared him more than all of those things combined... because it meant that he-... That Jack- his Jack... No. It couldn't be! He was gone!

He'd never been so terrified for what someone was going to say next. What it would mean. He'd just about finally accepted he was dead- and now he went and just-!... The idea of a message beyond the grave just terrified him. It was unnatural. It didn't make any sense! It just wasn't... It wasn't even possible! He wanted to run away- to be anywhere but here... But, somehow, he couldn't move.

"So that was some kind of nickname for you, then?" The man questioned, kindly. A reassuring look on his face saying 'it's alright...you can do this'. He almost told himself not to answer, but he couldn't find the heart not to. He nodded- a flash of a pained smile dashing across his face at the bittersweet memory.

"I... had the hiccups the first day we met... and he decided to turn it into some, stupid, nickname." He explained, a hundred emotions restrained in his voice, overwhelming him. He almost sobbed. He almost chuckled. He felt pain, and he felt joy-... and somehow the word 'stupid' seemed the fondest one of them all. He nearly made it sound like he was saying 'dearest'.

The man smiled warmly- comfortingly.

"He's saying- and I'm gonna quote him... 'look at you... Little fish stick, all grown up.'" And, just like that, all of his terror, and his insecurity- all his his uncertainty- vanished. The dull throb of pain remained (if anything, stronger now than before), but he almost broke into a laugh at the simple comment... because it was just so Jack. He could hear him in those words- his humour, his reassurance... He knew it was as much an attempt at comfort and a joke, as it was a quiet marvel at how much he'd changed.

"I guess I have grown a lot over the past year." He muttered. He brushed a sleeve across his eyes. Where had that moisture suddenly come from? He- he wasn't crying! He just... had an itch, okay? Although, he found he couldn't meet any of his friends eyes.

"Now, um- pardon me for asking, but... would you mind telling me why he feels so cold?" He asked tentatively, as he brushed upon the raw subject. Hiccup's face darkened as he tried to settle, then tie up, his emotions. He took a deep breath as he readied himself for what he was going to say next.

"He... died, in a frozen lake last year. The ice wasn't thick enough... He managed to save his sister, but then, he-... He didn't make it." He finished, ignoring the tiny bead of sorrow that slipped out of his eye.

He felt Astrid's hand, under the table, brush and cradle his, and give it a comforting squeeze. The whole room was silent. The tragedy of the young death, and the pain of those who had been left to bear it leaving a respectful silence draped across the air. He didn't want to think about the recent year- he tried to focus, instead, on Jack- though that was almost as painful.

He remembered his warm, brown eyes that could sparkle with mischief, or soften with care. His untameable mess of hair, that he'd apparently cut into choppy, uneven spikes as a youngster; and kept, after he miraculously suited the look. The happiness he'd inspire in him, just by laying eyes on him. His maddening grin that would drive him up the wall- and that endless energy that just-!.. That energy that... It was no more. All that life... All that joy... Gone. He would never be there to brighten up a room, or make a mess, ever again...

And he'd never... never get to tell him.

That whole time- all the years he'd known him... He'd slowly been falling for that soft, infuriating smile... and yet, for so long, he'd just been too afraid to say it. Forcing himself to be just content with being a good friend, lest he lose that bond as well.

...He'd whispered it. He'd whispered it at his his funeral, after everyone else- even his family- had gone... Standing before that stone that marked his absence... A stone... A stone for boy that held his heart. He should've been saying it to his face! He should've been terrified! Hopeful! It should've been a dramatic moment to remember for the rest of his life... But, no... It was said in bitter, heartbreaking silence... to a rock that would never reply.

Another drop slipped onto his cheek.

"That must've been hard." The man muttered, looking genuinely saddened by what had befallen the teen. Then he looked of to one side, slightly. "... He wants me to let you know that he's sorry." A sad, failing smile spread across his lips. That was so Jack. Even when he's done nothing wrong- even if it wasn't his fault, or it couldn't be helped... He'd still be there, with an apology and a bag full of chocolates, to make it all better...

... And the amount of times he'd heard him apologise... He couldn't say he'd enjoyed them, but lately he'd have taken anything any- just to hear his voice one more time. Or not even that, just something! Just to hear him apologise once more... Make one more memory.

... And now he had.

A little flutter of something tiny fluttered in his chest. Was it hope? He didn't know. It could've been hope, joy, light, or even love. It had been so long since he'd felt either, he couldn't tell. But he didn't mind. It was a good feeling. Almost one year later, and things hadn't changed. That chestnut haired devil still inspired the best of feelings- and the best of him... Jack- his Jack-... For a moment, he could almost talk to his frozen angel again.

"There's something else he wants to tell you." His heart, which had been still ever since it heard the news that shot it dead, skipped a beat. He... had something to say to him? "He wants me to say that there was something he always wanted to say to you, but he never got the chance."

His eyes widened, as his felt his breathing stop. His heart beginning to race. "...and he thinks you know what it is, because you never got the chance either." The psychic finished, looking at him to see if he understood the message the spirit had been trying to send. Two beads of water fell from watery eyes. His throat suddenly started to closed up and he couldn't do anything more than nod shakily.

"And also, this is very important- he wants me to make sure you get this... He's being serious, so you that's how you know you need to pay attention." A smile flitted across his face vanishing before it even spread... Stupid idiot... "He wants you to know that he's going to be there- he's going to look out for you."

The man looked at him intently, trying to convey the sense of conviction the spirit he was in contact with was trying to produce. The cold boy was desperate that the teen understand this- and the connection between the two of them was so strong, he felt like he had to make sure they were properly understood.

"He's going to be like a guardian angel watching over you... No matter how bad things get...he'll be there... Alright?" He questioned. The boy, utterly overwhelmed by a sea of emotions flooding him, only nodded once again... and he saw, in his eyes, that he'd understood. Good. His job was done well then.

He turned away from the boy, and attempted to find any other spirits in the room, but then turned back.

"And one last thing... He says: 'look for the snow'."

The rest of the gathering passed in a haze, as he tried to sort out his confused heart. Trying to figure out what he felt. It probably took it longer than it should've, but he came to realise something... Jack had loved him... He'd loved him. He finally knew! That question he'd been asking for so long... he finally knew the answer... He would've said yes. Perhaps that was his cue to start mourning over the times that could've been, but honestly... he just couldn't bring himself to be sad... He finally knew his answer... All he could was a sense of completion... and besides- Jack loved him! How could ever be miserable about that?!

As they left the venue, to the muttering chatter of the disbanding crowd, he felt a lot calmer, and a lot happier, than he had in a long time. He'd gone into it not knowing of the grieved burden he still harboured for his almost lover, but now he left it free from sorrow- content with the knowledge that Jack had loved him just as he had... And he was going to be there. All throughout this past year... He'd been there the whole time. He hadn't truly left him... and nor would he ever. He knew Jack- he knew he'd be right there at his side, until the day he joined him... and they could be together again.

He looked across at the blonde who'd dragged him in here against his will.

"Thanks Astrid." He told her, genuinely grateful. If not for her, he doubted he would've ever been able to put the shadow of his never answered love to rest. She smiled at him warmly, and squeezed his hand that she hadn't let go of the entire time he'd been shaking- reminding him that Jack wasn't the only one looking out for him.

He zoned out into happy thoughts, picturing the times that had been... and dreaming of what could've come to pass. Jack muttering those three words- hazelnut brown eyes locked breathtakingly with his... 'I love...' He heard a gasp ahead of him. Astrid was stood at the entrance doors, looking at the outside world through a small gap between them.

"You're not going to believe this, Hiccup." She muttered, looking back at him- her eyes wide in awe.

He frowned slightly in confusion, pushed the door with her to walk outside... and froze.

...Snow...

Delicate, beautiful flakes slow dancing through the sky in their thousands. Already covering the ground in a lacy carpet of white. The first snowfall of the year.

He stared up at the sky in wonder... He'd always loved the snow- it was such a simple, yet beautiful, miracle- but more than that... it reminded him of him. Jack loved playing in the snow down to the last flake. He had near endless fond memories of the two of them playing together in the cold- too old for snowmen and snowball fights, but having a great time doing them anyway.

"...I love you..." He silently whispered to the winter wind that slowly blew around them. Then, he started, and looked round at his shoulder... But there was no one there. He stayed there like that for a good few seconds.

"Hiccup- come on! Let's go get that hot chocolate I promised whilst we wait for this snow to come down!" He heard Astrid calling ahead of him... and he smiled. Turning to face the path ahead... and running to catch up with his friends.

... For a moment there, he could've sworn he felt something.

Right there, at his side.

A cold presence.


End file.
